But Malachi was crying hard, something boys over ten years of age on the four streets never, ever did, not in front of other boys anyway. ‘Feck off!’ he shouted over his shoulder as thirty boys watched their elevation from boredom march away.

The canvas bag banged against Paddy’s thigh as he walked, the buckle pricking the skin of his hand, thrust deep into his pockets to protect Max. He could tell that Max was sleeping soundly. He would leave his new best friend in his pocket until he got near to the wasteland before he transferred him to his bag. He trudged along, wondering would Malachi be in a good mood? Would a full day of play be on the cards before Malachi took his ball home? Would Malachi try to thump him or somebody else? As he turned across the top of the entry, he saw a woman shading her eyes with her hands, peering in through the window of Maura and Tommy’s old house. Little Paddy thought for a moment and then, on a whim, he sauntered down the pavement and approached the woman.

‘Hello,’ he said, ‘that’s Tommy and Maura’s house.’

The woman turned and looked down her nose at him. ‘Was,’ she replied.

Paddy furrowed his brow. ‘No, it’s definitely theirs,’ he replied and, without thinking, put his thumb in his mouth. Along with wetting the bed, it was the thing he was desperately trying to stop himself from doing. He had promised Maura he would before she left. It had been the last conversation she had with him.

‘I won’t be here, Paddy, to help your mam get the sheets dry. You know, she sometimes needs a bit of help, don’t you? You promise me you will try, there’s a good lad. Make sure you go every night, before you get into your bed, and keep the old brown ale pot next to you, in case you wake in the night.’

‘I will, Auntie Maura, I promise,’ he had said and he had managed to do just as she had asked. He never wanted to let her down especially after she said, ‘You’re such a good and special lad, little Paddy. The best in the four streets – along with our Harry, of course – you could be brothers, you two.’ And he had felt so filled with pride to think Maura would rank him alongside his best friend and personal hero, Harry, that he hadn’t wet the bed once since.

‘Are you wanting Auntie Maura?’ Paddy asked the woman now, feeling as though he was shrinking in size, caught as he was in the spotlight of the woman’s unfriendly gaze. She peered down at him as though he was something that had crawled out of a half-eaten apple.

‘Who are you?’ she asked him.